


be satisfied with what you are

by abstractwatercolor



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aang Needs a Hug, Air Nomad Genocide (Avatar), Air Nomad Lore (Avatar), Alternate Universe - Daemons, Gen, air nomad culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:33:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27882309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abstractwatercolor/pseuds/abstractwatercolor
Summary: Aang doesn't ever want his dæmon to settle. After a hundred years, that doesn't change.
Relationships: Aang & Gyatso (Avatar), Aang & Momo (Avatar)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 58





	be satisfied with what you are

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone who doesn't know what a dæmon is, they are part of a fictional universe created by Phillip Pullman, in which a person's soul takes an animal form outside their body. Children's dæmons can change shape until around the age of puberty, when the dæmon settles into one permanent form. This fic takes place in the Avatar universe, not Pullman's universe, but with the additions and changes that dæmons would require of the various cultures. If this gets a good reception, I might add on more small things about other characters.

The dæmon of an Air Nomad doesn’t receive their proper name until they settle. Before that, they are known by a nickname, chosen by their human or their human’s guardian, a child name until the pair are mature enough to earn an adult name. Monk Gyatso’s dæmon was called Mahayana, a peahen-pigeon with a low, soothing voice. Even when Aang struggled to settle into the calm necessary to meditate, Mahayana talking to him for a little while was enough to lull him into the right headspace. Where Gyatso often indulged in the playfulness and mischief of his young ward, his dæmon was always composed and serene. She always seemed to know the right things to say when Aang was afraid or hurting.

Traditionally, the newest incarnation of the Avatar wasn’t told about their destiny until their dæmon settled, to be sure they were ready for the weight that would come with knowledge of their role in the world. But now, the elders say, with war on the horizon, it is too dangerous to wait. And so they tell Aang, long before the usual time. As his dæmon flickers rapidly between forms, his anxiety and fear being vented through his soul, the elders tell him he must prepare, must ready himself for adult responsibilities. They even want to separate him from Monk Gyatso and Mahayana, the only comforting normalcy left to him.

Aang runs. Like the scared little boy he is, he runs from his fears. A bag packed with a few essentials, a scroll left on his bed, and he slips away silently in the night. When the storm hits and his sky bison falls, he thinks it is the spirits punishing him for his cowardice. He doesn’t know how lucky he is.

* * *

When he wakes, a hundred years have passed, and his dæmon won’t change. Through Aang’s games with the Water Tribe children, through his confrontation with the Fire Nation prince and his soldiers, through their departure from the South Pole, he watches with wide, dark eyes, and he remains the same. Aang insists, when Katara asks, that no, of course he isn’t settled. His dæmon has simply found a form he must find comfortable and decided to stay that way a while. Not settled. They’re far too young for that. He’s still just a kid.

It’s not until the Temple that Aang accepts the truth. Until the sanctuary, and the cobwebs and bones, and Monk Gyatso, the closest thing he had to a parent, lying there only bones, with no Mahayara at his side, not even a handful of golden Dust to show she ever lived. It hits him all at once, then, and the Avatar State takes over, protecting him from his sorrow and grief and rage.

When his vision clears, his dæmon is curled up against the side of the skeleton that had once been Monk Gyatso, and Aang finally lets himself acknowledge what he has felt since he woke.

“We’re settled,”

“Yes,” His dæmon replies, speaking for the first time since the iceberg, since the storm. With a shiver, he stands, and then springs into Aang’s arms, pressing himself to his human’s heart. A wave of emotion flows over him, as he holds his soul close. Love, such powerful, bone-deep love for the other half of his self. But also sorrow, a fresh new layer of grief to lay over the old. They are settled, they are finally ready to become an adult in the eyes of the Air Nomads, and there are no elders to give his dæmon his adult name. There is only them.

“We don’t have anyone to give you your name,” He murmurs into his dæmon’s fur, sounding, to himself, older and sadder than he ever thought he would be. His soul laughs, nuzzling Aang’s face affectionately.

“We have a name. We had a name when we left, and we have a name now.”

 _Oh_ , Aang thinks, _oh, of course_. They are themselves, and who they are hasn’t changed just because of his escape, or the hundred years of ice, or even that his dæmon will now stay the same forever. And so Aang turns, his soul a flying lemur in his arms, and announces proudly, “I want you to meet Momo.”


End file.
